


Sherlock and the Bee Sting

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crying, Gen, Gen Work, Kidlock, Sherlock Holmes and Bees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:11:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Sherlock is forced to go to the park one day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock and the Bee Sting

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd/brit-picked

Honestly. A playground? Really? “Mother, I'd rather stay home. I have an experiment to finish.” Sherlock complained.

“Well, that's too bad, Sherlock. Mycroft needs to practice piano and we can't have you running around experimenting. He needs it to be quiet.” Sherlock frowned. He was seven years old, too old to be playing on slides and swings with other children. 

The driver pulled up to a bright park, littered with children running about.  
“Go on now, Sherlock. I have some errands to run. We'll be back in an hour. Behave yourself.”

  


He slipped out of the vehicle and fumed silently as it drove away. What was he supposed to do for an hour here? Wandering around, he spotted a bed of flowers, a bit away from everyone else. Kneeling, he looked closely and saw some bees. 

“Bees! Wow, they must be collecting nectar to make honey,” He thought. Moving closer, he saw they had pollen on their legs. “I wish I could have some bees, Mum would probably say no, though.” He slowly moved his hand towards one of the bees, which had landed on the flower. He touched it, noting that it felt rather fuzzy, when he felt a stinging pain in his thumb.

“OW!” Sherlock exclaimed. He brought his thumb towards his face, and shuddered as he saw the bee's stinger embedded in his skin. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and his vision went blurry. He knew crying wouldn't help anything, but he couldn't help it. It _hurt_. 

Sherlock was sobbing quietly, he didn't want anyone to know he was crying. He never cried. It wasn't something he, Sherlock Holmes, _did_. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't stop.

He was crying so hard he didn't even notice the short blond boy sit down beside him until he said something.

  


“Hey, what's the matter?” He questioned. Sherlock jumped, startled. He rubbed his face, not really wiping away the tears, just spreading them around.

“N-nothing. I'm fine.” He growled. He wasn't about to speak to some unintelligent boy, let alone tell he was upset about a silly bee sting.

“You don't look fine. Are you hurt?” The boy asked, leaning closer to him. Sherlock frowned at the boy invading his space, but held out his thumb.

“Ouch, a bee got you, huh? Hold on, I'll be right back.” He stood and ran off. What was he doing? Was he finding an adult? Sherlock didn't want anyone else to see him like this.

  


His worries were unfounded. The boy came back with what seemed to be a first aid kit.

“Here, let me see your finger again. My name's John, by the way. Who are you?”

“Sherlock,” he sniffled. John had a pair of tweezers and was getting ready to remove the stinger. 

“Nice to meet you, Sherlock,” he smiled, “Now this might hurt a little bit, but it'll make it better.” He grasped the end of the bee's stinger with the tweezers and yanked it out. It didn't really hurt too bad, but Sherlock still pouted as blood began to well up.

A band-aid was swiftly pulled from the box and applied carefully to his thumb. Then John leaned his face close to the injured finger. Sherlock yanked it away.

“What are you doing?” He snapped. 

“I was going to kiss it.” John stated plainly. Sherlock's brow furrowed. He felt confused.

“Why would you kiss it?” he inquired.

“I'm not sure, actually. But my mum does it when I get hurt, and it makes me feel better. So I thought it'd help you.” John explained. 

“...Well, I guess you can, then,” he holds his thumb up to John's lips. He placed a kiss upon the bandaged appendage. 

“There. How does it feel now?” John asked. 

“I guess it does feel better now. Th-thank you, John.” Sherlock cradled his thumb to his chest. This boy wasn't too bad after all. 

  


“Hey, do you think I could be a doctor when I grow up?” John questioned.

“Sure, you seem to be decent at it, from what I experienced.” Sherlock replied, raising his thumb.

“Ya think so? Good, I've always wanted to be a doctor! How about you, what are you gonna be?” John glowed.

“Me? I think I'm going to be a pirate. I'll sail the seas and collect treasure.” He giggled.

“Wow, really? That sounds like fun,”

“Hmm, I'll probably need a doctor on my crew.” Sherlock smiled. John grinned at this.

“Really? When we grow up you'll be the best pirate and I'll be your doctor,” He laughed.

  


The two boys played pirates until Sherlock's driver returned. 

  


“Sherlock! Time to head home!” his mother called. He frowned, he didn't want to leave his new friend.

“John, I've gotta go now,” he sulked. 

“Oh, hold on!” John came to his side. He placed a quick peck on his cheek. “I hope I'll see you again!” 

Sherlock blushed as he got into the car.

  


“Who's your new friend?” his mother asked.

“That's John, he's really nice, not like the kids at school.” 

“Well maybe you can see him again some time.” she replied. She was glad that her son had finally made a friend. 

  


Sherlock never thought he'd meet someone so nice. But he did.

  


He never did see John at the park again. He'd gone back a few times to look for him, but he wasn't there.

  


Twenty years later, they met again.


End file.
